


The King Who Lost It All

by Bwebins



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Angel Merlin (Merlin), F/F, M/M, Soulmates, angel morgana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-24 11:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30071832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bwebins/pseuds/Bwebins
Summary: everyone knows that the valkyrie are female, so what happens to destiny when Emrys is created male?
Relationships: Merlin & Morgana (Merlin)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	1. The Descent

**Author's Note:**

> if you find any spelling/ grammar mistakes (which I don't doubt there are) please leave a comment :)
> 
> *signifies that there is an explanation at the end
> 
> any kudos are greatly appreciated :)

When Emrys first arrived in Odin's hall, it caused a bit of a stir. 

"surely a male Valkyrie is a mistake." was one of many arguments being made by the hall's inhabitants. 

Odin however saw this as a sign "surely such an abnormal occurrence is a sign of legends to come!"

When he made this comment, it silenced many of the previously vocal angry members. 

In terms of looks, he was just as abnormal. Dark-haired, with almost feminine cheekbones. This feature in particular was debated, as a sign of what Emrys should have looked like. Startlingly blue eyes, and pale skin. He looked more like a fey creature than a Valkyrie. If it wasn’t for his luminous, white, feathered wings, he may have been confused with a druidic creature. 

He very quickly found kinship with Morgana, who looked very similar to him. They could almost be mistaken for siblings. The only thing that really made them distinguishable was the fact that her eyes were deep emerald in colour. That and the length of her hair, but that varied depending on how rebellious she was feeling. 

Although they were different from the majority, they were incredible at what they did. Most Valkyries simply went to the scenes of battles and took particularly renowned, strong, valiant souls to Valhalla. Morgana and Emrys, however, were sent to create legends. Ever think that a legend just happens to line up perfectly? That a fight just so happens to go the right way for them? Emrys and Morgana likely had something to do with that. 

One thing that set Morgana apart, was the fact that she didn’t ever use one name. She had numerous names, that she changed between, she even used Derogatory terms like ‘the witch’ so that prophecy could never quite pin her down with one name. 

One day, at the crack of dawn, when the first rays of sunlight were streaming in over the horizon. A messenger came to their respective rooms. She heralded a letter, held with the wax seal of Odin. 

The message was written in beautiful cursive. Giving away that Odin didn’t write it himself. The letter itself said. 

"My champions, I ask that you come to the longhall. I have a new assignment for you." 

it was not a request, so much as it was a thinly veiled order. 

"you will be paired with the other Albion-borne*. This assignment has the capacity to lead you both to your soulmates. I would highly suggest you don’t mess it up". 

As they both made their way to the longhall, it was an odd experience. A soulmate was an odd concept to many of the Valkyrie. A person they were destined to fall in love with. This love was supposed to be irrefutable. But many Valkyrie were hesitant to believe in such a thing. Almost all of them had been hurt by love before, so were hesitant to trust such a bold claim. 

When they arrived at the longhall, the side-doors opened before they quite made it to them. pulling a grumble from Morgana 

The name of the hall itself was entirely self-explanatory. It was a single long hall, with small doors along the alcoves. The interior of the hall was decorated into a lavish feast. The long table was laden with rich meats, from succulent poultry, to pork with sweet glazes. The goblets were filled with the finest red wines. The walls were decorated with tapestries of the stories of the legends within the hall. 

Odin sat at the head of the table. Sparing but a glance towards them, before looking back to the people revelling at the table. 

As tradition dictated they do, Morgana and Emrys moved to stand at the side of the room. Chatting quietly between themselves. 

"what do you think this one will be? Make some snobby queen have a revenge story?" Morgana snarked, remembering their last mission. Helping a woman to assassinate the man who murdered her family. 

"maybe make some tone-deaf nobles get married happily ever after?" Emrys remarked. He had always been vocal in his opinions on the balance of fate. Those in power get to be married, whereas lowborn people were pushed to the side. 

A loud cough drew their attention back to the table. Where Odin was sitting. 

"if you are quite finished, I have your task here" he gestured to the scroll lying on the table next to him. 

‘This task is an odd one. I don’t care how you do it, so long as at least 2 legends come out of it.’ he handed over the scroll to Morgana. 

They both looked at the scroll as Morgana unfurled it. It was by far the most unspecific job they had ever been given. All that was required was to ‘ensure that the kingdom is remembered for centuries to come’ it didn’t even have a way that it had to come about. 

Usually, they had certain requirements. Make sure that the king’s children survive etc. This one didn’t have anything like that. they could make it remembered for being destroyed by dragons if they so wished.

They both shared a look. There had to be some kind of catch, this seemed far too easy. 

"Oh yes. I almost forgot. You will be in a time where magic is illegal, and punishable by execution via pyre." they both went wide-eyed. Sure, they had been sent to times where magic was illegal, but it had never been enforced with executions before. 

"Your innate magic will not be hidden. You must hide your angelic nature as well as your magic."

Morgana looked like she was about to argue, but just as she was about to start talking, Odin waved a hand. The Angelic parts of them being pushed out of the room. Turning them into amorphous golden essence. forcing them through the building, until they were hovering over a pit, leading down into a torrent of storm clouds. With a sudden jolt and a roll of thunder, they began their descent towards Albion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *albion borne - a valkyrie who originated from albion. they are incredibly rare


	2. The Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emrys gets to grips with Merlin's life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you find any typos or grammar mistakes please let me know :)
> 
> any kudos/comments are appreciated :)

The clouds rushed past them, as they rocketed down towards the ground. Birds melding into blurs, as they were rushed past. 

The ground came into view, vast green expanses, scattered with yellow fields. They started to angle, aiming towards a grey speck, that was rapidly growing larger. 

Shapes that where once indistinguishable became buildings. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Emrys wondered if they were visible. Would they be arrested as soon as they arrived? 

As the finer details became distinguishable, they split off from each other. Morgana heading towards the castle at the centre, whereas Emrys went towards the main gates. 

*Emrys’s POV* 

He crashed into the body of a young man, more like a boy than a man. Oddly enough the man looked almost exactly like Emrys. 

He instinctively knew everything Merlin knew. Merlin being the name of the man. 

Merlin was on his way to the court physician of Camelot to be an apprentice, although he had no knowledge of medicine. How odd. 

Due to the nature of the semi-possession, merlin’s reasoning took a while to come into view. To learn magic? In a place where it was illegal? Even odder. 

A dull pain started to make its way around the rim of his shoulder blades, turning progressively more intense. 

He was lucky to be wearing a backpack, he doubted that Morgana had been so fortunate. 

Although the pain was growing more intense there seemed to be a commotion near the front of the large building he saw Morgana going into. His mind supplied that it was called “The Citadel.” 

As he made his way he could almost feel the skin on his back separating, making way for his angelic appendages. Again, he was lucky to be wearing a backpack, as the wounds were no doubt on the verge of bleeding. 

One setback of wearing a backpack however was the fact that the wings had no room to move into, so it was causing damage, with no progressive movement. 

He made his way around the corner, looking into a large town square, with market stalls having been moved into the corners of the square. 

In the centre of the square a small wooden fence had been erected, waist-high, blocking people from entering. a man kneeling, head on a wooden block. A man wearing all black standing forebodingly next to him, great-axe resting on his shoulder. Hands gripping the handle, ready to swing at a moments notice. 

On the balconies above, a man with thin-looking grey-hair was standing pattering on about some law, Emrys barely registered the word magic being mentioned, too focused on the resigned look on the man's face. 

His mind supplied a name for the Gray-haired man. Uther Pendragon, more like a dictator than an actual monarch. 

He kept spewing half-truths, stating the negatives, while actively avoiding the positives. As his speech neared the end, he shouted a one-word order, and the axe on the executioner's shoulder began its downwards movement towards the man’s waiting body. 

Emrys’s eyes closed almost on instinct, not wanting to watch the moment of the impact. But unwillingly hearing the sound of a thump, followed by the sound of a few muffled gasps. 

The voice of an older woman filled the square, her words resounding through the silent courtyard, the sound reverberating off the stone walls of the surrounding the area. 

The words themselves were not important to Emrys, it was the conviction behind them. the sheer hate conveyed through them. 

A faint prelude to magic pulled Emrys out of his revelry, as the older woman spoke in a language that few could fully comprehend. 

He saw the golden strands coalescing around her, forming a protective sphere around her. The strands split, sending a small pulse outward, pushing the guards that had been surrounding her to the ground. The sphere changed expertly, turning from protection to mobility. Emrys could, if he so wished separate the strands of magic, dispelling them. But he had no reason to. 

The magic pulsed a bright blue, as she and the magic disappeared. Much to the outrage of Uther. 

Emrys saw this as a prime opportunity to slip away unnoticed and find the physicians quarters. 

~~~ 

It was easy enough to find them, what with the hanging sign of a mortar and pestle outside the doors. as soon as he walked in, the strong smell of rosemary and thyme hit him. 

The physician in question was standing on a rickety ladder, in order to reach up to one of the tall bookshelves. The only distinguishable feature from this angle being his long Gray hair. 

At the sound of the door being opened, he made an attempt to turn on the ladder. Promptly falling towards the floor of the room. 

Instinctively Emrys moved what he assumed was the patient's cot over to below him with magic. 

When he landed, quite winded, he sluggishly stood up, an accusatory glint in his eye. 

He started asking various questions, Emrys having to rely on merlin's knowledge in order to answer them. 

A bit of improv was needed when the physician who revealed his name as Gaius asked how merlin had done that. Playing off Emrys’s enhanced reaction speed, and lack of verbal spell components, as being something that merlin had always been imbued with but had no control over. 

Their odd first meeting ended with merlin being told he was now Gaius’s assistant, and that he would have to be in attendance for the feast later that day. 

Now that he wasn’t being questioned by Gaius, Emrys had a chance to look around the room. 

It was a fairly large room, with wooden walls and a few shutters on the front of the building. The room was filled with shelves and tables, most of which had bundles of herbs wrapped in string waiting to be used. 

All this talking however was leading to a rather large problem. The pain his wings were causing was now getting to almost unbearable levels, the distinctive feeling of blood likely seeping into his clothes urging him on. 

He had to find some way to deal with them, and fast.


	3. Close Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emrys and Morgana have some close calls with the whole wing situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *signifies that there is an explanation at the end
> 
> as always, all kudos and comments are greatly appreciated :)

Luckily enough Gaius had said that merlin could take the bedchamber in the back of the room.

“Thanks, Gaius, I’ll go and put my stuff away.”

“Be quick, we still have etiquette to talk about for the feast!”

With a quick nod to Gaius Emrys made his way into the chamber. Grumbling something about being _very_ polite, thank you very much.

The room itself was sparsely decorated, a small bed pushed up against the sidewall. The walls were a dull brown colour, on the far wall there was a small closed, shuttered window.

A cupboard/shelf hybrid was standing almost reaching the ceiling directly adjacent to the door.

The decorations, however, were the least of his problems.

With a glance to the door, he locked it. Magic being necessary as the door did not have a lock on it.

Placing the backpack on the bed was a double-edged sword.

On one hand, there was no longer a weight stopping his wings from emerging. On the other hand, there wasn’t a weight keeping his wings down anymore.

Almost immediately, the sound of tearing fabric gave away the fact that his wings were fed up with being crushed.

A bitten off shout ripped itself from his throat, as the wings expanded out, tearing yet more of his flesh as they went.

Blood splattered onto the wooden floors, the thick substance melding from red to gold only to become red again. The warm liquid ran down his back, causing him to shiver involuntarily.

Another hiss made its appearance as the flesh of merlin’s back began regenerating, healing the wounds around his shoulder-blades.

It was not a pleasant experience by any standards. The feeling of flesh knitting itself back together, around the muscled underlayer of his wings.

He slowly started to peel the ruined tunic off his back, the blood making it somewhat painful to remove the remnants of it.

As he turned the tunic around, the large rips made it look like he had just lost a fistfight with a wolf. The blood making it look like someone had tried to dye it red but failed horribly.

“of bloody course” he let out a long sigh “first day here and the wings have already almost got me found out” mumbling arcane words without really thinking about it.

The blood began to fade, seemingly steaming and dispersing. Turning into a red mist that then started quickly fading into nothing.

The tunic, however, would need a bit more effort. _A_ _nd_ Gaius was wanting him to go to the main chamber. Would his whole time here be so stressful?

Bringing his mind back to the problem at hand he focused on mending the shredded tunic. The magic seeped out, coating the tunic in a soft orange glow. The fabric began reweaving itself. It almost looked like a seamstress was sowing it back together, the fabric weaving around the different now separated stands of the tunic. fading into one piece of fabric. It looked better than it had before, the faded hues of red being rejuvenated with newer dye.

All in all, the fabric looked better than it had before, there was no sign that the tunic had been ripped just moments before.

He walked up to the door, pulling on it to no avail. Oh, right, he had locked it. With yet another sigh and a golden glow, he walked out. Dreading his first lesson with Gaius.

~~~Morgana’s POV~~~

As soon as she arrived in the body she was surprised. The woman was called Morgana… one of her names, how very odd.

Another thing that took her by surprise, was the fact that she was wearing a _very_ tight corset. a dull pain spreading around her abdomen.

She was in a bedchamber, it was very spacious, stonework marking the walls as being the home of nobility. A large bed was hidden behind a small room divider from the door. There was a desk just in front of the large windows. a small, polished brass hand mirror sitting on a bedside table. When she looked into it, she would be lying if she said what she saw didn’t shock her.

Morgana and … Morgana looked the exact same, not one feature stood out as being different from her Valkyrie form. They looked even more similar than identical twins.

She was wearing a green dress made from fine silks, a lightly swaying skirt on the bottom of it. She looked every inch the noblewoman.

However, the memories that Morgana saw, were quite different. A woman who stood up for herself despised the fact that men were seen as superior. Treasonous thoughts in a male-dominated kingdom. Not very lady-like at all. Very very odd.

She had a maidservant. What was her name again? Grace? No, that didn't quite feel right. Gwendoline? Closer, but not right. What was it?

Guinevere? Yes! That was it. She had a maidservant called Guinevere, though she preferred to be called Gwen.

She had sent Gwen off to get something, who knows what it was.

Morgana almost didn’t notice the gradually increasing pain of her wings emerging because it was merging with the pain of the corset.

It very quickly became more of a sharp pain than a dull pain.

She looked around the room, seeing what she recognized as a changing screen in the corner of the room.

She scurried around it, sliding it shut behind her.

With an intense golden glow of magic, her dress almost turned into liquid. Green-tinged water with an almost treacle-like* consistency. Sliding off her body, leaving her in just her undergarments and her infuriating corset. The liquid reformed into the dress, folded onto a chair nearby.

The feelings of daggers digging into her shoulder blades indicated that her wings were making their appearance. The feeling of her wingtips slowly breaching into the space behind her.

At about the halfway mark there was the familiar sound of the chamber doors opening. Which meant that Gwen was back.

“My lady, I have the lemon cakes you requested.” A feminine voice called out. Just as the sound of footsteps moving into the room towards the desk echoed around the otherwise silent, stone room. “My lady?”

_Shit_

_“_ Ah yes Guinevere, “ she took a moment of silent contemplation to try and find some way to escape this situation

“My lady is everything alright?”

“yes, I have just been having some problems with” she looked around, what feasible excuse could she use?

Shoes? Was that really her best excuse?

Oh well, time to look like a fool.

“The lace on my shoes has been coming out constantly, and I can't figure out why. Would you mind having a look?”

“of course, my lady” _oh shit_ , Gwen was going to move the divider!

A quick spell and the laces on her shoes looked an absolute shamble.

Morgana slowly slid the corner of the divider across holding out the shoes, only showing the bare minimum of skin.

A slightly calloused hand brushed against hers, and for some reason, it sent a shiver through her.

“I'll get to it right away my lady. Your lemon cakes are on your desk. The Cook sends her appreciation for reeling in Prince Arthur’s strange meals." And with that, the divider slid shut.

The wings were now on full display, how in the world was she going to hide them? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * treacle - a thick syrup


End file.
